904 MARYWOLLSTONECRAFT
refuge from care; yet is built on such pure, still affections, that idle jealousies would not
be allowed to disturb the discharge of the sober duties of life, nor to engross the thoughts
that ought to be otherwise employed. This is a state in which many men live; but few,
very few women. And the difference may easily be accounted for, without recurring to a
sexual character. Men, for whom we are told women were made, have too much occu-
pied the thoughts of women; and this association has so entangled love with all their
motives of action; and, to harp a little on an old string, having been solely employed
either to prepare themselves to excite love, or actually putting their lessons in practice,
they cannot live without love. But, when a sense of duty, or fear of shame, obliges them
to restrain this pampered desire of pleasing beyond certain lengths, too far for delicacy, it
is true, though far from criminality, they obstinately determine to love, I speak of the
passion, their husbands to the end of the chapter—and then acting the part which they
foolishly exacted from their lovers, they became abject wooers, and fond slaves.
Men of wit and fancy are often rakes; and fancy is the food of love. Such men will
inspire passion. Half the sex, in its present infantile state, would pine for a Lovelace; a
man so witty, so graceful, and so valiant: and can they deserveblame for acting accord-
ing to principles so constantly inculcated? They want a lover, and protector; and, behold
him kneeling before them—bravely prostrate to beauty! The virtues of a husband are
thus thrown by love into the background, and gay hopes, or lively emotions, banish
reflection till the day of reckoning comes; and come it surely will, to turn the sprightly
lover into a surly suspicious tyrant, who contemptuously insults the very weakness he
fostered. Or, supposing the rake reformed, he cannot quickly get rid of old habits. When
a man of abilities is first carried away by his passions, it is necessary that sentiment and
taste varnish the enormities of vice, and give a zest to brutal indulgences; but when the
gloss of novelty is worn off, and pleasure palls upon the sense, lasciviousness becomes
barefaced, and enjoyment only the desperate effort of weakness flying from reflection
as from a legion of devils. Oh! virtue thou are not an empty name! All that life can
give—thou givest!
If much comfort cannot be expected from the friendship of a reformed rake of
superior abilities, what is the consequence when he lacks sense, as well as principles?
Verily misery, in its most hideous shape. When the habits of weak people are consoli-
dated by time, a reformation is barely possible; and actually makes the beings miserable
who have not sufficient mind to be amused by innocent pleasure; like the tradesman
who retires from the hurry of business, nature presents to them only a universal blank;
and the restless thoughts prey on the damped spirits.* Their reformation, as well as his
retirement, actually makes them wretched because it deprives them of all employment,
by quenching the hopes and fears that set in motion their sluggish mind.
If such is the force of habit; if such is the bondage of folly, how carefully ought we to
guard the mind from storing up vicious associations; and equally careful should we be to
cultivate the understanding, to save the poor wight from the weak dependent state of even
harmless ignorance. For it is the right use of reason alone which makes us independent of
everything—excepting the unclouded Reason—“Whose service is perfect freedom.”
*I have frequently seen this exemplified in women, whose beauty could no longer be repaired. They
have retired from the noisy scenes of dissipation; but, unless they become methodists, the solitude of the
select society of their family connexions or acquaintances, has presented only a fearful void; consequently,
nervous complaints and all the vapourish train of idleness, rendered them quite as useless, and far more
unhappy, than when they joined the giddy throng.